


Confronting the Captain

by Ambazaar



Series: The Girl Who Forgot Everything [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Boromir - Freeform, F/M, Famamir Gets Lectured, Faramir - Freeform, Fate is a bitch, Gondor, Lord of the Rings, Love/Friendship, Minis Tirith, Original Characters - Freeform, Return of the King, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambazaar/pseuds/Ambazaar
Summary: The "Part 2" of my one shot 'Confronting the Steward'Ivory attempts to drive Faramir to disobey his father in order to save his own life. Also, she has a vision that may tell her more about his fate.





	Confronting the Captain

    Ivory stayed just beyond the door of the Grand Hall of the citadel for what seemed like an age. Though inside she had appeared calm and collected, as a tamed fire knowing just when to strike, now she felt her heart thudding loudly inside her chest and her breath was scarce. She had gotten herself banished from Gondor. Did she regret her words? Not for a moment. She would defend Faramir to her last breath, of that Ivory was certain. But, it would no doubt be too long before the guards were running her out of the city. Her time here was slowly running out.

    There were so many things she had not done, people she had wanted to meet, places she had yet to explore. There was another time, perhaps, but how long would that be? After Denethor had passed? After the war? . . . Would there even be a city left to see? No . . . no, Ivory could not think such things. She balanced her form straight and looked over the plains from where she stood.

    She stared at the White Tree of Minis Tirith and admired its beauty, even as its branches hung naked in the disheartening shadow of the darkening sky. Soon, there would be a new king of Gondor and its leaves would again grow in the autumn of Aragorn’s glory. Ivory smiled at the thought. These were the thoughts that she needed to meditate on - to lay her hope. This world’s tale was not yet over. She knew that as much, not from her visions, but in her heart.

    And yet her heart cringed with despair as her gaze brushed over the blur in the horizon, the city of Osgiliath. Orcs patrolled its walls like vermin in a sewer. Soon, their arrows would fly through the gloom into the bodies of men who did not deserve such a fate. She could see it. The vision came to her as an unwelcome memory: _The brave knights of Gondor, riding forth with swords in hand and hope long left behind. Away the arrows flew, as if a very part of the stone of Osgiliath. The city betrayed them, it no longer knew its people and it killed them. All of them._

The grind of Ivory's teeth sent a flaring pain to her head, the red hot tears falling down her face like remnents of spring showers. _**No.**_ She quickly wiped the tears away. She could not allow this. She would not, even if it was Faramir’s course in history to perish in this pointless battle - if one could call it that - she would not allow it. She **could** not. It simply wasn't fair. She turned from the tree and sped down the long pathways into the heart of the city.

___

    It was just nearing on noon by the time Ivory found the markets. There was a sudden nip in the atmosphere, as if the coming battle rose within the city an overwhelming hopelessness that chilled even the air. Ivory released her long hair from its braid to cover the bare skin of her shoulders, though it served little comfort against the bitter bite of despair pouring from every pair of eyes she passed.

    The sun was long gone, though it had not yet reached midday, and Ivory was lost within the streets of Minis Tirith under the darkening sky. She had already been within the city for a week, still each turn she took seemed as if it would lead her into a villainous shadow. All looked the same, yet the beauty of such a city, even as it hung in the silence of the dark, warmed her with hope. This grand city of Minis Tirith would not so easily fall, of that she was certain. How could it? As her hands brushed against the marble walls, Ivory admired its structure from the simplest crack beneath her feet as she strode through the empty alleys to the peaks of the grandest halls, all glimmering like diamonds even in the diminishing, grey skylight. This city was humanity’s last hope. Nay, it would not fall.

    “Milady!” Ivory drew her dagger in a flash, the one hidden neatly in her trousers, and spun toward the voice that had confronted her. Her breath was staggered and heart beat far faster than normal. When had she drifted so far into thought to be this frightened from surprise? The young man who had called her hid in the shadow cast by a nearby flower stand, holding up his hands in surrender. Ivory silently approached and only sheathed her dagger when she saw that it was Dedrius, the stable master’s son.

    “What might you be doing stalking so close to the shadows, boy?” Ivory demanded, though her tone was not harsh. Dedrius stood and leaned out of the dark so his face shone in the grey light.

    His answer warmed her heart. “You search for Lord Faramir, milady?” he asked. Ivory’s stance softened. His suggestion was true, he knew this better than anyone, because he had witnessed, on occasion, both Faramir and Ivory conversing closely to one another when they came for their horses in the mornings; the young man made an opinion about their familiarity once - Ivory had not blushed as hard at anything so outspoken since Boromir's confession in Lothlorien.

    “Yes. Have you seen him?” she asked, though she did not even hope he had. She was surprised and joyous when the boy nodded.

    “Before the half to eight bell, he took horse to the late captain’s estate in the north.”

    “And how might you know this, child?”

    Dedrius shrugged. “It is not so much a secret, milady. The captain has spent much of his time there, even before the late prince’s death. Since his passing through the city, I’ve been looking for you, milady.”

    “Looking for me? Why? What has happened?” she asked.

    The young man’s eyes took on a shade of worry. He furrowed his brows. “Lord Faramir does not seem well. His face was far whiter than it is meant to be and his eyes not at all in the right. I fear he may be ill.”

    At hearing this, Ivory commanded the boy take her to Estel in the city stables, knowing to herself that she was horribly lost without a guide. She also asked Dedrius to give her directions to the captain’s current location, which the boy gladly did. He even took her a fair amount of the way before the midday bell finally came upon them and he said his father would be expecting him home. The two departed after a short farewell.

___

    Ivory drove Estel in haste through the streets, which were beginning to fill with the ramble of the city folk. Her long hair twirled and swayed about behind her and her dark hazel eyes watered liked leaves in the early morning as the cold air rushed passed her.

At last the large, white building came into view. The estate sat proudly the farthest building north from the markets, seeming half carved from the very mountain side. Flags of the White Tree hung in its silver pillars and sprightly, green vines grew from the foundation to the roof; though, as Ivory drew nearer, she noticed the brown flecks veining through each leaf, withering without the lively warmth of the sun.

    Flowers that would have protruded out in beautiful varieties of color bent forward to the ground, their once gracious peddles either decaying or gone already. Just for a moment, Ivory imagined them as they would have been: the roses shining under the light of the sun like rubies and lilies under the glimmer of the moon as mithril. The lunar moths and butterflies would flutter through the air, occasionally landing on the statues of former kings and other great men, which decorated the path leading to the front doors. But, these images were not so. They were long dead and Ivory regained the reality of everything as she rode her horse past the rotted gardens to the marble porch, praying to whichever gods would listen that she was not already too late.

    Ivory demounted her horse in haste and brushed her fingers through his soft mane, whispering to him in Elvish, “Thank you, my friend. Stay here. I will return.” Estel bobbed his large head in response, nipping at the cloth of her arm before she wondered toward the door.

    Guards stood posted beside the doors of the estate, and one held out his open palm as Ivory approached. “Lord Faramir has forbidden visitors, milady. You cannot see him,” he said to her, which only boiled the already simmering determination inside of her.

    Ivory made a move toward the doors and each guard threw their spears in a cross in front of them, prohibiting her passage. She glared indignantly at the one who had spoken. “You will not keep me from him.”

    “We cannot let you pass,” he replied simply. Ivory snapped.

    The elf moved toward the man in a flash and suddenly drew her knife. She placed the flat end of the blade on his neck, the steel cooling his skin in an instant. Ivory drew the guard’s sword with her other hand and pointed it at his companion before he could act. She glared glossy eyes at him, warning him to stay back. Then she looked back to the man under her blade. She stared, hard and desperate into the guard’s eyes and he stared back, both frightened and confused. Ivory’s lips trembled as they parted.

    “Do you have family, ser?” she asked, her voice fierce yet broken, to both their surprises. The one guard whom she was addressing found the gaze of the other and then turned back to her, nodding hesitently.

    “I have a wife and two strong sons, and a daughter not yet two weeks old.” he responded. Ivory’s grip on her knife eased slightly. She could tell by the way this man spoke, holding his heart in his words, that he was a very proud father, as well as a loving husband. The Elven woman sighed, long and sad. A tear fell from both of Ivory’s eyes as she let the silence linger.

    And then she breathed deeply of the frigid evening air to remind herself of the task at hand. “You are greatly gifted where I am not.” she said, a shiver on the end of her words. “The one I loved was taken from me. I watched him die, I listened as his last breath left his lips . . .” The guard’s eyes shifted from confusion to pity and then relief when Ivory took away her dagger from his throat, but the elf’s determined expression never waned. “You will let me pass. I must see his kin, his only brother, before he too is gone from my sight forever.”

    The guard Ivory spoke to shifted awkwardly at the elf maiden’s words. He looked to his companion, who seemed as confused and shocked as he was.

    “ _Please_ , ser.” He turned back to the distraught woman. More tears ran from her eyes, down the soft, pale skin of her cheeks, which flushed with the bite of the cold. She shifted the hand with his sword in it and offered it back to him. “I will not ask again.”

    The guard did not know whether to take Ivory’s words as a threat or as a reassurance of her departure, but either way, despite his master’s wishes, he no longer had the heart to refuse her. He looked to the other man, who nodded in agreement. He reached slowly for his blade and sheathed it at his side. The two guards stepped aside then and left Ivory a path to the doors, which she rushed through without another moment’s delay.

    Once inside and the guards had closed the doors behind her, Ivory was left alone within the dark and empty halls of absence; not a single light passed through the windows guarding the front room as if a curse fell within the walls of this place. She could not know at first where to look for the captain of Gondor. She did not know what time she had left, but at that moment it seemed as dark as if it were midnight in the estate. She suddenly felt heavy with grief.

    Ivory had meant to find Faramir to tell him to disobey his father, to throw away this nonsensical notion, but now she did not know if she could even speak properly in his presence. She was afraid of crumbling before him, of losing her strength. She was afraid he would think her weak, which later she knew was absolutely ridiculous to think of Faramir - of all people. Ivory felt it hard to breathe as her thoughts swam around in her mind, as if someone had snuck up to her in the shadows and strung her corset even tighter. She leant on a nearby wall and collected herself. There was something in her heart holding her back, but doubt was not strong enough to hold her down forever.

    _Take heart and do not despair. There is courage within you, yet. I can see it - and it is beautiful._

    _His_ words crept into Ivory’s mind that instant. The words he had spoken to her near the end of their time in Lothlorien. The words she’d carried with her through death itself. They played over in her mind and, as she gathered her thoughts, remembering why she had come here in the first place, Ivory felt the air easier to breath and she found the strength to enter the the dark passages.

    The air within these rooms was cooler than outside. Each room stood nearly bare, as if someone had come through and emptied them immediately after hearing the news of Boromir’s death. There was plenty of something in particular, though and Ivory knew it was because of the desire of its current resident to fill his head with as much lore and knowledge as he could. They appeared in every corner, on every shelf, in piles and stacks, and some open to pages he had last left on. Books. Old books of history and lore, scrolls, and written parchments addressed to no one in particular. Ivory’s fingers brushed over these things as she roamed each room, not really looking over them in detail, until she found a stairway leading to the next floor.

    The loose sleeves of Ivory’s tunic fluttered in her haste as she sped up each step, one hand clenching the railing to support the waning strength in her legs. Standing at the top, she glanced either direction before she caught sight of a light pouring from around the corner leading left and that way she followed with speed, her leather boots making little noise against the marble flooring.

    The light cast silhouettes underneath a closed door near the end of the hall, flickering in the darkness by her feet. A shadow parted the dancing light, pacing back and forth from behind the door in rhythm to the thudding of heavy footsteps in motion. The moment it disappeared (though not before taking a deep breath), Ivory burst through the door, her heart thudding violently as if it would rupture from within her chest. Through the dark, she was met with Faramir’s confused, restless stare.

    Formerly, he had stared dazedly through the parting of heavy curtains which led out to the balcony, the outlook leading directly to the broken city of Osgiliath; he had not seen Ivory approach, because his view turned to the East, where the entrance of this estate stood pointing South. When Ivory had entered, Faramir released the curtains from his grasp, forbidding the dim, evening light from entering the room, and turned to meet the elf’s watery gaze - it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark again and when they did, his expression became dejected.

    After a few seconds in silence Ivory's gaze fell to the bed just in front of Faramir and saw that it bore some of his earlier clothing and pieces of armor he had meant to dress in before the outside world had distracted him. Now, the captain wore only a loose tunic, untied and parted at the chest, and a simple pair of dark trousers. Ivory’s eyes shifted to a mannequin in the far corner of the room, as if hiding in the black shade, wearing the shining armor of Gondor and she felt her heart skip as her eyes skimmed over the shimmering metal, the symbol of the White Tree centering the chest piece. She was grateful then, realizing she had made it there just before he would leave for battle.

    Faramir moved across the room in attempt to avoid Ivory’s broken glance once her eyes fell on him again. He now hovered over a small, round table near the door where earlier he had been reading. “You should not have come, Ivory. I wish to be alone, can you not see that?” Faramir asked, his eyes fixed on the papers covering the table. She did not answer him. Before she realized it she was crossing the room toward him in haste. Ivory had meant to speak, or to embrace him and hold him to her until the last of light, but now that she saw him, now that she had heard the words from his own lips, realizing the solitude he so craved was tearing away at him she felt angry. Pained from rejection. Unwanted, afraid and confused. He stood up straight to receive her.

    She slapped him, though not as fiercely as she had meant.

    The crack of skin echoed in the room. Ivory stared desperately at Faramir, his face expressionless where she had expected surprise. She breathed heavily, the rage that led her to her actions now a gentle simmer until finally there was nothing but the pain she was so anxious to avoid. Her eyes glossed over and stung from irritating warmth and tears threatened to escape the longer Faramir did not meet her gaze. She lowered her accused hand when Faramir sighed, but still he would not look at her.

    Finally, Ivory found her voice. She let go of the breath she did not realize she’d been holding and, feverishly, she said to him, “How could you?" Faramir looked down at the elf curiously. Her brows furrowed, ". . . Even after everything he has done, you would still -”

    “I will not hear a lecture, Ivory.” Faramir cut her off and Ivory felt her words lodge in her throat. “Nothing you tell me of my father is news to me, I know his character.”

    Ivory frowned. “And yet you would agree to this madness?” Faramir sighed, frustration urging him to lower his gaze away. “You know what he is asking of you and still you would willingly abide?”

    “I have a duty to my steward.” Faramir said simply, turning from her so he was again facing the closed balcony, but Ivory held his forearm and violently reversed his action.

    “You have a duty to your _**people**_! You have a responsibility to this city.” the captain pondered this in brief silence. “What will this battle, if one could call it as such, accomplish? What purpose is there in freely throwing your life away? You know this will prove nothing. Nothing!” Ivory sucked in a heavy breath and her sadness was temporarily replaced with delicate anger when the captain moved to turn away. “You are selfish!” Faramir nearly flinched at her words, hearing both her wrath and her pain in her voice. “You act so quickly to do the will of a vile man, one who never looked at you as an equal, but you would run at a chance to do something right for your people, especially if it were against your father. Once you might have loved this city, but now you turn your back on it. And for what?" Faramir's shook his head, which fanned the flame of Ivory's determination even more. "Your pride will mean nothing when you have gone forever from this world. It is the same foolish pride that poisons your father. You wish to earn his approval? Then I ask you: What has Denethor ever done to deserve it? What has he ever done for this city that he has not also done for himself?” Ivory halted her words to take in a much needed breath. She took in Faramir’s look of uncertainty. The captain of Gondor stared into her eyes, looking for the answers to these questions he had asked himself many times before. Ivory’s anger vanished again and she sighed. “What has he ever done for you?” she added after a moment of contemplation.

    Faramir remained silent, even after Ivory’s eyes had long dried, though the pain from holding back her tears lingered on. He could no longer look at her. He released himself from her grasp and walked to the other side of the room, which was now only dimly light by the dying candles of the small, round table.

    Ivory mirrored his steps until she was only a few feet away again. She reached for his hand. “Faramir -”

    Just as their finger’s brushed together, Ivory felt the pull of the earth on her body. Everything suddenly grew dark, as black as pitch, before stars shone in the sky, and then the rising of a golden sun consumed the land. She was no longer in Boroimir's estate.

    _Many had gathered. There was laughing and cheer. Flowers and hats were thrown into the air, and for a moment, Ivory thought perhaps this was the end of the evil days. Two people came into her view. They held each other as if forever connected. They were bonded with such deep affection and perpetual love, it warmed the very depths of Ivory’s soul. The woman was dressed in a beautiful white dress. Her golden hair was woven through a crown of flowers and shining jewels and a stunning smile stretched across her face. This was Eowyn of Rohan, Ivory realized, and she was indeed pleased to see her so happy. Eowyn met eyes with the man beside her, her newly wedded husband, and Ivory’s eyes followed where her friend's gaze ended. This was this world’s course of fate, another vision into the future, but Ivory suddenly felt something fix in her throat as she looked upon the face of the man_ _beside Rohan's Queen._

_The heart within Ivory’s chest ceased its beating. She lost her breath. The strength in her legs failed and again she felt the ground coming up to meet her._

    Ivory’s sight diminished once again until the familiar flicker of candlelight cast familiar shadows throughout a familiar room. Her fingers were so close to brushing against Faramir, who still stood with his back to her. The elf maiden let her hand drop, her eyes staring paralyzed at the back of Faramir’s head. She felt the tears forming, the pieces of her heart falling as they crumbled inside of her. She was again aware of the situation that brought her to be in the captain’s presence. Not a second had gone by, she knew that now, but nothing else in that moment mattered to her except her sudden desire to disappear. She knew of all things she should be relieved, for she was given a glimpse of a future where Faramir would live after today, but amiss the joy she felt only the spear in her chest.

    Ivory turned and took not four steps toward the door before she was called after. “What would you have me do, Ivory?” Faramir called after her, thinking her indifferent about his silence instead of her latest vision. They each turned toward the other again, Ivory trying to hide her grief as much as possible. What a feat to accomplish, for when she saw Faramir‘s face, her heart again felt as cold as winter‘s kiss. “Would you have me flee? To abandon my brothers in arms instead and leave them to this fate alone?” No, she could not see him doing that. Though his father‘s orders were unthinkably absurd, she knew, out of everything, Faramir would not betray the only brothers he had left.

    And yet, Ivory could not accept this. She had been given a vision, the gift of seeing Faramir truly happy. She would not let him destroy it. “I would have you **live**.” Ivory told him without anger or pity, but determination. “None need to perish so foolishly. Ignore this command, save your strength for the real battle; none will think you a coward.”

    “How can you ask this of me? My father -”

    “You have suffered under the torment of your father’s indifference for far too long! For once, Faramir, - just once - let go of your ambition. You need not prove yourself to him. You have already done so much that he refuses to see.”

    “Ivory -”

    “There is greatness in you, Faramir. I cannot be the only one who sees it.” the elf woman continued, stepping closer to him. She smiled, no longer ashamed of her heart. She brushed strands of hair from his face and tucked them behind his ear; the skin of his cheek was warm, and she was suddenly filled with guilt at seeing the small welt that her hand had left earlier from the violent contact. “There is strength in you in many forms, strength I have not seen in another man - compassion and love and faith. These are your values . . . and they are worth far more than the admiration of a single man.”

    Faramir held his breath when Ivory’s fingers brushed against his face, but her words left him lost. He knew she did not speak the whole truth - there was one other he knew Ivory once held in such high regards.

    He lowered his gaze away from hers as he spoke. “Boromir also had these values, and you cannot tell me he did not, for I knew my brother. . .”

 Faramir’s heart skipped when Ivory took her hand from his face, knowing that he had spoken fire back into her nearly settled grief, at least for the moment.

    Faramir was pleased that when he looked upon Ivory, she still held a faint smile. “Yes,” she said, “Boromir held these values as well . . .” and then her smile faded. She would not speak ill of the dead, not without breaking herself also, but there was a weight in her chest and a thought on her tongue she felt Faramir needed to hear. “But, you are not your brother. Boromir’s strength eventually failed him. It was not enough to break his desire for the One Ring - oh, but do not believe that your brother had failed in his last moments, Faramir.” Ivory encouraged, seeing the failing look in the captain’s eyes. “Boromir was everything a man of Gondor was meant to be and his mind remained his own even to his last breath. Know that.” she placed her hand on Faramir’s arm and he smiled.

    Neither of them spoke for a moment, because Ivory saw a thought cross through Faramir's eyes and he stood there, struggling to put it into words. He took in a sharp breath, shifting his weight to the opposite leg.

    "Many times since news of my brother, I have asked myself . . . 'What in this world have I left to live for?'" His words took Ivory by surprise. It was not too challenging for her to figure out the meaning behind them and she suddenly became afraid for him. She slightly squeezed his arm to comfort him. To her relief, he smiled. “I dreamt of you . . . “ he said this softly and his eyes drifted, searching for the right words. Once again, Ivory was taken aback. “I saw you in a dream. I never told you when we met, but I knew you the moment I first laid eyes on you.” This was indeed news to the elf. Whatever she had meant to say disappeared from thought when Faramir's smile became aparent, a welcome and warming site. “And I saw you were with my brother. He had called you by name. He spoke to you briefly and then he was gone.”

    Ivory could not believe her ears. _The garden._ The last meeting place between her and Boromir. Their paradise. When she had tried to save Boromir from Lurtz's arrows, she had awoken in that place thinking she had died also, only to be sent away again, forever from Gondor's former captian. To think of that place now brought sadness to her heart. Her hand found the charm Boromir had given her hanging around her neck and traced the stone branches with her finger as she stared off in thought. Faramir saw this. His mind drifted to his own trinket, but he made no mention of it then.

    Instead, he asked, finding her focus on him once more, “What did he say to you . . . The last time you saw him?”

    Ivory blinked, staring up at Faramir. Those last words - earlier she had spoken them to Denethor and it had filled him with anger, but she did not think this would happen with Faramir. Still, she was reluctant to respond. Her cheeks flushed with a soft shade of pink as she found his eyes boring into her, desperate to hear an answer. She looked away.

     "Tell me," Faramir pressed her.

    She smiled. “Love my brother,” she said almost silently, but in his heart Faramir would have heard these words had they not been spoken at all.

    His heart thudded loudly within his chest; Ivory could hear it. “And do you?”

    Ivory’s heart matched the pace of his and the soft pink in her cheeks turned a deeper shade. “What?” she said, dumbly, though she had clearly heard him.

    Faramir held her captive in his gaze and Ivory found that she could not look away this time, even had she wanted to. “Do you love me?” he asked, determined and hopeful. The way he was looking at her! The way he held out his heart in hand, offering her his very soul, Ivory had not the courage to lie to him knowing the many times he had felt the fierce sting of rejection, knowing in her own heart all the pain he had suffered.

    But she knew, where his duty lied with his city and the people of Gondor, Ivory had a duty to her mistress: Fate. She could not change that. She did not smile, but she would not lie. “I do,” she said, finding that Faramir had taken her hand in his some time ago. His smile faded as she shook her head and as she spoke she could feel her own heart breaking all over again. “But . . . Your heart is not mine to have.” She knew he could not understand. She had to tell him. She knew it was the only way to save him. “I have seen ahead, one future you could have aside from death, Faramir, but . . . It is not with me.” Her eyes shied away from his while the words slipped from her mouth.

    Faramir’s smile again returned. He had heard only what meant the most to him. It was all he needed and though in her mind Ivory now regretted ever saying anything, she could not take it back. She could not rewrite the truth. Faramir held her hands more tightly within his. “Be that as it may, I cannot see such things, Ivory. You may know my fate, but I am blind to it. All of it. It is you that I see. You and you alone.” She looked up at him, first glancing at the hold his hands held over hers as he pressed them to his chest; she could feel the warm, quickened beat of his heart.

    His eyes, seeming dark and green in the dim light of the shimmering candles, would surely be the death of her. Everything she had fought for sense coming here all seemed to wash away in that moment. Nothing  mattered but the two of them. Not Denethor, not Eowyn, not even the pending war to come. It was when Faramir lowered his face to meet hers that her heart grew still. A million thoughts ran through her mind in those last few seconds, which seemed the longest of her life, just before their lips would come together. She felt the warmth of his skin on her, his sweet breath tickling her face, and his hair fell forward and brushed against the soft skin of her cheek. His eyes were closed, though hers were not. She stared down at his lips and wished more than anything that she could find the courage to rise up on her toes and meet them. She took in a breath, closed her eyes - and put her face down.

    “I cannot,” she whispered. Faramir stopped and opened his eyes, and the sting of guilt sank into her like a dagger as she could almost hear the sound of his heart breaking into a hundred pieces. His eyes searched her face, but she would not meet them. She could not breath. She would have meant to leave, to rid his sight of her, to end his pain, but the captain still held tightly to her hands.

    “Why?” Faramir asked, his voice hoarse and soft. Ivory looked into his eyes then, though she would come to regret it. Pain. It was all she could see behind the fear, the dread of being alone, of being rejected once again. The elf looked away as quickly as she could and forced her escape from his hands. Her back faced him and she stared longingly at the door of the room. Her fingers twirled over each other.

    She sighed. “I cannot betray my mistress." She stated firmly. "Fate is cruel, Faramir, but I cannot betray her. The consequences are too severe.” Faramir took a step toward her and opened his mouth to object, but she would no longer hear him. “My company will be meeting three days ride from here. I wish to see them before . . .” Ivory stopped and decided not to finish her statement. She had not the need to.

    Faramir took this in for a moment, then asked hesitently, “The former company of the Ring?”

    “The very same.” Ivory’s eyes drifted to the large candle, the only one now left burning on the small, round table by the wall, though it had gotten much smaller sense her arrival. “At least, what is left of it,” she added in a whisper, mostly to herself, though she knew Faramir had heard also. She turned to him finally, knowing then it would probably be the last she would ever have the opportunity to do so and this thought brought more tears to her eyes, but she fought to hold them back. In this moment, she needed to be strong.

    There was a glimmer of hope in Faramir when Ivory walked toward him again, but it was hope in vain. She smiled at him, though inside her heart was trembling with guilt. She stared into the deep blue of Faramir’s eyes and, with voice shaking, she said, “If my words so far have not persuaded you, I leave unfulfilled.” She furrowed her brows, holding the captain in her gaze, speaking again before he could, “If you will not elude this venture . . . .” a tear fell from Ivory’s cheek and she bit in her lips to keep them from trembling. She reached up to hold his face, feeling like it was the only way to remain as calm as she found possible. Faramir’s hand fell over hers then and Ivory found herself taking in a deep breath, remembering what she wanted to say. “Then at least remember my confession. - And do not give up. If you are to ride out to battle, than I will have you fight -  with everything that you have. Do you understand?” she waited for Faramir to acknowledge her in someway. When he nodded, Ivory flung herself into his arms.

    Faramir held her so closely, he felt as if she were a part of him. He hid his face in her hair, his lips pressed against the skin of her neck. She dismissed her desire to keep him to her. She held in her tears, no more would they fall before him. She could no longer smile, she hadn’t the heart.

    Faramir fell back from their embrace, but still stood close enough to have his arms remain around her. There was mischief on his lips and desire in his eyes as he stared down at her. "If it is beyond your power, I will not divert you from your path, as you cannot divert me from mine," he said, much to Ivorys dismay. "This is how it must be - Only time will tell my true fate. But, Ivory, if I am to die, I will die with no regrets."

    Before Ivory knew of his intentions, his lips were on hers in a clash of passion and longing. She was too stunned too respond, but too overwhelmed to do anything against it and slowly she felt herself returning his kiss, even if she knew Fate was looking down apon her with a scrutinizing gaze. His body clung tightly to hers, their breathes matching each other in rhythmic sequence. His fingers were in her hair - her arms pressed against his chest, fingers tugging at the opening in his shirt.

    After a long while, though it seemed too short a time for either of them to fully enjoy it, Ivory broke their kiss and pressed her forehead against his, catching the air that violently escaped her lungs. She settled long enough for her heart to regain it's proper pace.

    It took everything within her to meet his eyes again once they had finally pulled away from one another. There was a shutter on Ivory’s lips when she turned from him. She did not look back, though she could feel Faramir’s eyes on her as she opened the door. When she was gone from the room, it seemed one-hundred times darker than when she had first entered. She had to keep her thoughts distracted as she soured back down the steps, but there was nothing that could comfort her from the guilt and the pain in her heart. Only when the doors swung open and Ivory stepped out into the chilled air did she feel anywhere close to being alive. The guards posted just beyond the front doors looked to her as she briskly trotted down the steps of the porch toward her faithful mount.

    Estel did not at first permit her to mount him. Instead, the beautiful creature walked sideways from her and then rose his head to brush his snout on her forehead. He brushed his cheek against hers and then rested his neck on her shoulder. Ivory could not hold back her smile. She wrapped her arms around the horse’s long neck and kissed him. She cried into his mane, though the animal did not seem to mind. He whinnied an encouragement (as it would have seemed) into her ear and nudged her again. ‘It is time to go,’ he seemed to say, and the elf maiden nodded in agreement. “Time to meet our friends,” she told the horse in Elvish.

    Ivory mounted the grand animal, but before she turned him back toward the road, she met eyes with the guard whom she had earlier threatened. “Pray tell me, ser, what is your daughter’s name?” she asked.

    The guard smiled then, and Ivory was warmed by the pride in his voice. “Her name is Elena,” he said.

    Ivory’s lips curved into a small smile. “A beautiful name,“ she confessed. She turned Estel sideways from the two guards, but something crept into her thoughts just then that would not permit her to leave. “When she is old enough to love . . ,’ she started, surprising this new father. He did not say anything; only listened. Ivory thought of her words carefully, “do not set her on a path of your own will. Let her decide - Fate will do the rest.”

    To her surprise, the guard smiled and nodded. “I will, milady.”

    Ivory nodded and then finally turned from the two of them. Estel caught a decent trot away from the estate and was soon bolting through the streets of Minis Tirith. Before she came to the front gates of the city, she turned once more to the North. She could no longer see the White Tree of Kings, but she could see its image in her mind. She could see the Grand Hall and imagined Pippen in her thoughts, wishing him a final farewell, knowing he would somehow hear her. And then the elf turned her back on the city and sped through the doors as the guardsmen opened them for her.

    Across the grand field before her stood the fallen city of Osgiliath; it was impossible to turn from Gondor and not have it at least once in her sight. The orcs hiding behind its stone walls peered back at her with evil in their hearts and hatred in their eyes, but she would not give them a long enough study of her character. She silently cursed them all, and then Ivory turned Estel North and they began their three day journey toward Edoras.


End file.
